Steele Vengeance

Part Four

         Jessica sat back, her expression troubled. "That poor young woman. I've heard the name Morgan St. Clair, of course. Growing up in England it was in the newspapers on occasion. I had no idea that he had ever met Remington- and tried to kill him."
Mildred came in. "Here's your coffee, Miss Beecham. And here's the report you asked for, Mrs. Steele. St. Clair's a real prize package," she commented. "Irish authorities can trace over half of the illegal arms sales in that country alone back to him. Interpol has nine murders they've accused him of committing himself, and the list just goes on and on."
Laura frowned, glancing over the report. "Make that an even ten murders, Mildred."
"Mr. Steele's friend?" At Laura's surprised look, she explained. "He told me that a friend of his was killed last night. Was this guy responsible?"
"Very likely. And his next intended victim is probably Remington."
"Oh, Laura," Jessica said, shaking her head.
"Why would Morgan St. Clair be after Mr. Steele?" Mildred asked.

Fred looked in his mirror once again. "I think we're being followed, Mr. Steele."
Steele turned. "Which car?"
"The dark blue Ford, sir. He's been behind us for several blocks."
Steele turned back around. "Loose him." It didn't take Fred very long to do exactly that. Satisfied, Steele relaxed a bit. "The office, Fred."
"That was TOO easy," Tony commented. "Fred's good, but St. Clair's no amateur."
"I know. He just wanted to make his presence known. To remind me that he knows where I am."
Tony turned his attention to the view beyond the window. "Maybe you should ask for police protection."
"No."
"What about for Laura? And Jessica? Katherine?"
"You know Laura, Antony. She would never accept it."
"You can't be with her all the time, Steele," Tony pointed out.
Steele's blue eyes darkened with worry. "I know that. Believe me, I know."

Steele had just entered the office when the telephone rang. Since Mildred was away from her desk, he lifted the receiver. "Steele here."
"Hello, Remington Steele."
Steele's blood ran cold at the sound of that voice. It had haunted his nightmares for a long time after Dublin. He gripped the telephone tightly. "St. Clair."
"It's pleased I am that you remember me, lad. You received my message?"
"Yes," was Steele's terse reply.
"Enjoy the time you'll be having left. I don't like leavin' loose ends. And this one's raveled for far too long."
"Look, I'm the one you want, St. Clair," he said, glancing up to see Laura, Jessica and Mildred watching him from the office door. "If you harm anyone else-" the line went dead, and Steele hung up. "DAMN!"
Laura came to him, putting her arms around him. "That was him, wasn't it?"
"Yes." He held her for a moment, then looked over her head at Jessica. "I suppose you and Mildred know what's going on?"
"Laura told us," Jessica said. "He's a very dangerous man, Remington."
"I know better than any of you just HOW dangerous. Watch your backs. I need to talk to Laura," he said, "We'll leave for our luncheon appointment shortly, Jessica."
She consulted her watch. "The- reservation is for one- and if we're late-"
"I know." He steered Laura into the office, closing the door behind them.
She turned to look at him. "Exactly where are the two of you going for lunch?" she asked.
"I didn't ask you in here to talk about that, Laura," he said, pulling her into his arms again. "Now, what did the doctor say?"
She smiled up at him. "That I'm in disgustingly good health, and there shouldn't be any problems."
"Not even with working?"
"He said as long as I want to- within reason, of course. He recommended that I not chase any bad guys for awhile." Her expression dimmed. "What did Tony's informants tell you?"
"We MAY know where St. Clair is staying. Antony's gone to keep an eye on the place." He moved away to sit on the sofa, pulling Laura behind him. "About Antony, Laura, it seems he had a bit of car trouble this morning and was late for his appointment with Mr. Ford."
Laura's eyes narrowed. "HOW late?"
"An hour." Laura's expression darkened. "Mr. Ford called and I assured him that I would send someone else out to inspect the gallery for the security system-"
"And you want ME to go over there."
"It will keep your mind off of this other business," he said.
"NOTHING will do that." She was in his arms again. "I'm so afraid that St. Clair will find you and you won't have the chance to know this baby -" She kissed him. "I love you so much it frightens me."
"Oh, Laura. And I love you. More than I ever thought it possible for me to love anyone." His kiss to her was long and passion-filled, his hand resting on her abdomen. "I don't want this child to have to grow up without a father, Laura," he told her at last. "And I'll do everything I can to make sure it doesn't happen." Another quick kiss, and he stood. "I have to go. Take care."
She nodded. "You too."
Outside, he turned to Mildred. "Stay with her."
"I will, Chief. You be careful."
He turned to Tony, who had been talking quietly with Jessica. "Watch your back, mate. And remember, if you see St. Clair, find me. Under no circumstances are you to go after him alone."
"No way. I've never been much for wanting to be a hero- especially a dead one. Enjoy your lunch."

Steele straightened his tie and shirt cuffs yet again. "Don't be so nervous," Jessica teased. "She's really a very nice woman. I think you'll like her. And she seems sympathetic to what we're doing."
"I hope so," he sighed, looking at the photographs on the wall. "I could use something going my way."
"At least she's agreed to meet with us in her chambers. It means she's interested."
"Is this you, Jessica?" he asked, looking at a photo of a younger Jessica and another, older woman.
"Indeed it is," a new voice commented, causing Steele to turn. "It was taken just after she graduated from law school at the top of her class." She smiled smiled at Jessica. "It's good to see you, again, Jessica. Punctual as ever, I see. Just give me a moment to get out of this robe," she said, giving Steele the opportunity to study the silver haired woman as she removed the black judge's robe.
Jessica sat back as the woman turned toward them. "Veronica Dawson, my brother, Remington Steele."
"Your honor."
Veronica sat down behind the desk and put on some reading glasses, peering over the narrow lenses from the man before her to the open folder on her desk. She smiled at him. "Please be seated, Mr. Steele. This isn't an inquisition, you know." Steele sat stiffly in the chair beside Jessica as Veronica said, "I must say that I've read the petition that Jessica submitted, and I'm impressed. Excellent work as always, Jessica." Jessica smiled. "I know your reasons are here on this paper, but I'd like to hear them from YOU directly, Mr. Steele."

Tony sank down in his car as St. Clair- he assumed it was St. Clair from Steele's description-returned to the fleabag hotel. His attention was distracted by a shabbily dressed man with several days growth of beard who shambled up to the vehicle. "Got a light?"
"I don't smoke," Tony said. "Get lost."
"How about a quarter for a cup of coffee?"
"I said move along, pal," Tony said, his attention back on the hotel.
"Not very kind of you, mate," the man said again, and this time Tony recognized the voice and looked more closely at the face that was half hidden by the dirty hat.
"Steele?"
"Nothing too obvious, Antony," he said, turning to scan the street. "Any sign of our quarry?"
"He left an hour ago, went to the cafe up the street, and got back just a minute ago. He's up there now."
"Why don't you go on and get something to eat for yourself? I'll stay here and watch."
"Leave you here alone?" Tony asked, shaking his head. "No way. Laura would have my head on a platter if I let you out of my sight with St. Clair so close."
"She won't find out about it unless you tell her," Steele pointed out. "Go on."
Tony paused. "How'd your meeting with Jess' friend go?"
"Very well," Steele said, not wanting to discuss this with Tony. "No doubt she'll tell you all about it when she sees you. Now go."
"All right. But I won't be long," he said. "Stay out of trouble."
Steele moved away, and Tony started the car to drive off, only to stop as several police cars came into view, sirens screaming. Del Hansen led the officers into the hotel across the street. "What the bloody -" Steele muttered. "Stay here," he told Tony. His disguise enabled him to follow the police upstairs, and to watch as they burst into the second floor room- only to find it empty. There was no sign of the man they sought. A uniformed officer turned to Hansen. "He's flown the coop, Lieutenant."
"I should have known," Hansen said, clearly angry. But his anger was abated by the sound of a gunshot from the street below, and being at the rear of the group, Steele reached the street first.
Several people were gathered around Tony's car, and he had to push his way through the crowd, terrified of what he would find when he got there. The front glass of the vehicle was broken, and Steele recognized the pattern. Tony was sitting behind the wheel, his right hand on his left shoulder, trying to stop the flow of blood. "Antony. What happened?"
"St. Clair. He walked right up in front of the car, raised his gun and shot me. Then he took off- How he missed me from that distance-"
"He didn't," Steele pointed out, hearing the police clearing a path, disbursing the crowd.
"It's only a scratch," Tony insisted
"Police. Let me through-" Hansen saw Tony, then looked at the other man. "Mr. Steele. What are you doing here?"
"Staking out St. Clair, Lieutenant," Steele informed him.
"I thought we agreed that you were going to let us handle this, Mr. Steele?" Hansen asked. "I've sent for an ambulance, Mr. Roselli. Did you see who shot you?"
"I'm pretty sure it was Morgan St. Clair," Tony said. "I only got a glimpse of him. I was looking toward the hotel- Sorry, Steele."
"It's all right, Antony. At least you weren't seriously harmed."
Hansen's expression said that he agreed. "You were both damned lucky."

 

To be Continued----

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